


this is where (you both) begin

by Archistratego



Series: records of war [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M, chronic undertagging, lol, the conan au, there may be a plot lurking in here somewhere but i don't know, thrass pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 10:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16061555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archistratego/pseuds/Archistratego
Summary: It's a question of order and tradition - things that Thrass seeks to uphold, even in the face of Thrawn's determination to ignore them. Thrass really wants to do nothing with this nonsense.Unfortunately, Thrawn is his little brother.





	this is where (you both) begin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 3 of [Eli Week](https://elivantoweek.tumblr.com/). I was in a rush since I'm behind and uhhh yeah, rip, any spelling mistakes are mine.

Mitth’ras’safis considers himself to be a severe but fair individual. A man used to handling the intricate — and often unorthodox — peculiarities of his younger brother with the patience of a saint.

It is true that Thrawn’s brilliance affords him special considerations. He has never failed his clan after all. Battles fought under Thrawn’s banner always ended in victories, and as such his reputation has spread beyond the borders of their isolated territory, across mountains, deserts and seas. However, there are lines, and then there are _lines_ that Thrass cannot ignore, and he considers all options before acting. Thrass, like most of the Chiss, is not easily provoked.

Attacking the lands to the south had been a necessity due to the increased incursions into their territory, pillaging of resources — Thrass would support the decision all over again. Except that, after that war, a boy was brought back in chains. Unremarkable, reed-thin, and angry — like so many are until they accept the hopelessness of their situation. He was one of the many spoils, collateral damage, his people caught between the Chiss tribes and a rising Empire.

The destruction of his home, his people, his way of life cannot be undone. Logically, Thrass knows but perhaps, if he could go back, he would change this.

What this slave is _now_ , Thrass can only guess at: aide, paramour, Thrawn’s favourite.

But even then an disquieting thought is taking root, stretched out between Thrass’s wilful ignorance and the unshakable certainty of the depths of Thrawn’s unorthodoxy. It all leads down a more alarming path, a revelation as to what _Eli_ is— never his own person as long as he wears those silver cuffs but his symbiosis with Thrawn is unnatural.

The truth as to what Eli is is perhaps more alarming. The thought finally rising and refusing to be ignored: _Thrawn’s chosen mate_. Before Eli, Thrawn’s paramours held no interest for Thrass. However, Thrawn had never taken a slave and made them his mate in all aspects except for formal.

There are lines, and to Thrass this is too far. No matter how many talents Eli has, hidden or not.

Thrass is learning not to underestimate Eli, swaying his immovable brother said _something_ , it sent alarm bells ringing in Thrass’ mind. He’s concerned at the ever-burning defiance in Eli’s eyes; blind rage is messy, easily countered but what lurks within Eli is _smart_ , it has patience, it has a target: Thrawn.

Not that Thrawn is helpless, far from it, but the issue with his chosen paramour — even if Thrass were willing to overlook the continuous escape attempts from Eli, which he’s not — is that he is a slave in a position that rightfully belongs to an individual of Thrawn’s equal standing. Even if Eli had been free, he is an outsider, ignorant of their ways and —

— Thrass hears the laughter before he spots them: Eli and Thrawn, sprawled on the floor of the sparring area with Eli straddling Thrawn’s chest, whispering something breathlessly that causes his normally stoic brother to laugh before he reaches up and reverses their positions.

Eli hits the ground, eyes wide. “I wasn’t ready for that, it doesn’t count—” he speaks in an admonishing tone, displeased at having been outwitted in this sparring session.

“All’s fair in war.” Thrawn leans down to nuzzle Eli, mouth drifting over his neck, along his jaw and down his neck. “Besides your victory was an intended illusion,” He continues as Eli fists his fingers in Thrawn’s hair.

Oh. Thrass feels as if all the air has been punched out of him, he has no place here, and watching this play out is almost voyeuristic but it is _fascinating_ how Eli’s eyes have soften, the anger muted and changing into fondness.

“I very much,” Thrawn says, pressing another kiss against Eli’s stomach, “Like the results of our training sessions.” His fingers drift along Eli’s side, revealing more skin — certainly more than Thrass wanted to see. He follows Thrawn’s hands and has to admit his brother is not wrong, Eli is no longer the lanky youth who arrived shackled behind Thrawn’s horse. Now, his lithe build hides the deceptive strength that comes from physical training.

(Thrass wants to deny the fleeting image of Eli with the careful blue markings, wearing the deep red colours of the Mitth — no, that is unacceptable).

Thrass’ train of thought derails, shock colouring his features as he watches his brother: warlord, scourge of the Empire, feared and respected by all, nip Eli’s stomach playfully before slipping further down and doing the unthinkable.

An act of intimacy that only slaves performed, their sole goal the pleasure of those they served.

And yet, here was the most feared Warlord of the Chiss allowing a slave to push him about, to demand — well, Thrass doesn’t know how to put it delicately, his brain refuses to even think it.

This is quite enough.

Thrass turns, catching only a glimpse of Eli’s wrists: they were bare, no silver shackles.


End file.
